


Teddy Bear

by wumbo_requiem



Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Crushes, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Sharing a Bed, fluffy as all hell, it's really light though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28666824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wumbo_requiem/pseuds/wumbo_requiem
Summary: Pickles offers Murderface some much needed comfort and warmth in the middle of the night.
Relationships: William Murderface/Pickles the Drummer
Comments: 10
Kudos: 18





	Teddy Bear

  


“It’sch cold.”

Pickles sighed and rolled over. 

“Dood. You have all the blankets.”

“Scho! It’sch schtill fucking cold!”

“Then c’mere.”

It isn’t the first time Pickles has made the offer. Whenever they’ve crashed someplace together, be it a couch, someone’s floor, or a hotel bed like this one, and William got cold, Pickles made the offer. William always refused, and they laughed it off. It was a joke between them. As long as they never really acted on it, it was only a joke.

And so, naturally, William scoffed at him.

“Yeah, right.”

It was dark, and Pickles hoped that meant William wouldn’t be able to see the way his face changed. He could hear his own heart thumping against the mattress. Could William hear that, too?

“Nah, man, like… I’m actually offerin’. If yer really that cold.”

It was quiet for a second or two. 

“Picklesch, that’sch kinda…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Spare me. Jus’, do ya wanna or not? Cuz I don’t wanna hear you moanin’ about how damn cold it is all night. It’s already late as hell.”

He worried he was being too snappy in his explanation, but then the bed creaked, and William’s body approached him awkwardly. He felt the bassist’s hand touch his waist and then flinch away immediately, like he was hot. Pickles chuckled and scooted closer, so that heat filled the gap between them. His one knee curled up and rested against William’s thigh.

“Dunno where to put ‘em?” He asked, trying not to tease too much or else his bedmate might withdraw.

“Er, kind of.”

“‘Ey don’t worry. I’ve got lots of experience.”

Then he took William’s calloused hand and put it on his side, then took his own hand and settled it flat against William’s back.

“That okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, I guesch scho.”

Pickles could sense his nervousness. William’s hand came to rest on his shoulder blade, where his tank top minimized the skin-to-skin contact. He smiled, as William seemed to relax. They held each other close, Pickles starting to mindlessly draw circles on the other’s back.

“See, this ain’t so bad.”

“Yeah? Wait till one of usch fartsch.”

Pickles laughed. “That happens anyway, dood. Feelin’ any warmer yet?”

“...Yeah.” 

He could hear the smile in his bandmate’s voice.

“Great,” he said with a hidden grin. “Wanna get some sleep now?”

“I’m not really tired…ahh.” William trailed off into a yawn as Pickles massaged a specific spot right between his shoulder blades.

“Y’sure?” He laughed.

“...Picklesch?”

“Yeah, dood?”

“I usually don’t feel comfortable doing thisch because… no one’sch ever aschked me to cuddle before.”

Pickles nudged him with his foot.

“I only asked ya a million times, and ya kept saying no, douchebag.”

“I really thought it wasch a joke. Anytime anyone’sch ever wanted to do  _ anything _ with me, it’sch been a joke, or a dare, or a schetup.”

Pickles’ heart sank. That meant, all those times he asked William seriously if he wanted to be close, the man had shirked away because he thought Pickles was out to make fun of him or be malicious. That has never been his intention.

“Dood, that’s awful, I’m sahrry.”

There came a long and winded sigh.

“It’sch not your fault. It’sch mine.”

“Woah, wait, no it isn’t.” He paused his hand’s movements for a second, shocked at what he was hearing. William thought it was  _ his _ fault for being mistreated that way? That didn’t sit right with him at all. “People are just assholes.”

“Yeah, well, maybe if they didn’t have a reaschon, they wouldn’t be. I’m fucking dischguschting. Everyone makesch that loud and clear.”

Pickles sighed. “I’m sahrry you feel like that Willy, n’ I’m sahrry if I… made you feel that way. But I don’t wanna hear you talk about yerself that way. I really don’t. Because it doesn’t make  _ me  _ feel very good, either. I mean,  _ I  _ want you here with me, or else I wouldn’t’a asked. Doesn’t that matter?” 

William was quiet, making a noise in protest and then cutting himself off. He seemed to let that sink in, huffing through his nostrils softly in disbelief. He inhaled like he was about to say something, then didn’t. His fingers dug into Pickles’ shirt, and Pickles pulled him closer, recognizing those shaky breaths.

“Hey, I’m sahrry if I was a little harsh…” 

William sniffed. Pickles was not used to seeing him like this.

“It’sch not that. I juscht got overwhelmed. It’sch hard to believe that schomeone wantsch to be closche to me...”

Pickles resumed rubbing William’s back, using the other hand to softly toy with his hair. It was curly and soft, some of it still drying after his shower hours before. It helped to soothe both of them.

“Well, it  _ shouldn’t  _ be. Yer cool, man. And hey,  _ yer doin’ a pretty great job at this _ ,” he whispered. 

“Oh…” 

He could feel William’s hand let go of his shirt slowly and run its thumb over his exposed shoulder. It made Pickles smile. It turned out that the way to crack William was to tell him he was good. If it was that easy, he would have started doing that a long time ago.

“Thanksch. Nobody ever schaysch that.”

“Maybe they should.”

A pause.

“What’sch happening, Picklesch?” He sighed. “Thisch isch kind of-”

“Dood, don’t say it. Don’t make it weird.”

“...I wasch gonna say,  _ nice _ .”

“Oh. Uh. It is, huh?”

“Yeah. It’sch  _ weird _ !”

The guy sounded genuinely astonished. Pickles had to laugh, and he did so very softly. While it was sad that Murderface wasn’t used to affection, it was priceless to watch him warm up to accepting it. His body language had changed so much in a short amount of time, and now, whether he realized it or not, his head was leaning into Pickles’ hand, making him pet his scalp. 

“But good, I hope?”

“I’ll admit, yeah. God damnit. Don’t ever tell the boysch I’ve gone  _ schoft _ .”

Pickles brushed some hair out of William’s face.

“I won’t. Only if ya prahmise not to tell ‘em I instigated it.”

“You have my word.”

“Pfff. You nerd.”

There was more he felt like telling William- that for many years of his youth, he too had felt unlovable. That he understood William’s fear of rejection, if to a different extent. But that conversation had already kind of passed, and he wanted to keep it lighthearted. It was almost four in the morning. Jeez, they really needed to sleep. They had to be on the bus by eight. He closed his eyes and tried to stifle a yawn.

“G’night Will. If ya ever wanna do this again, just, like, ask me, yknow? I’ll be fine with it if it’s not stinkin’ hot.”

“Okay. Well, thanksch.” He gave Pickles a little squeeze with his arm. “I- I hope that wasch okay, and not weird. I’m schorry.”

Pickles squeezed him back gently. “It’s okay, dood. You can do it if you want.”

There was another pause, then William was full-on hugging him, moving his idle arm underneath Pickles’ side so he could fully embrace him. Their chests were flush together, and Pickles’ forehead bumped William’s chin. His heart was doing the thing again, but he still felt relaxed. Not in a way that he could sleep just yet, but in a way that he felt content to just lie there and not move. He kept his eyes closed, hoping that when his pulse stopped racing he would fall asleep like that, in William’s arms. With the way things had been going between them, with William denying his every attempt at getting physically close, he had doubted they would end up like this.

That was all either of them had to say, really. There was a silent understanding that they both needed this. Pickles had this weird urge to kiss him, just gently on the cheek or something, but he suppressed it. He kept hoping that William would press his lips to his head but he never did. And that was okay- this was their first time doing this. They needed to take things slow, if they were ever going to progress from here. And it was late, and Pickles could hardly hold a coherent thought anymore. He snuggled his face into William’s shirt like he was a big, soft teddy bear, inhaling the scent of him and the cheap hotel soap he’d used. He vaguely wondered if things were going to be different with him in the morning, if either of them would even mention it, and he wished they could sleep through their alarm, which he knew they couldn’t do. If nothing else, he hoped he could look forward to more nights like this in the weeks to come. 

Man, he could get used to this.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
